I Remember
by SheCan'tFly
Summary: She was wearing blue jeans the first time I saw her. Oneshot.


She was wearing blue jeans the first time I saw her. Yeah, thats it. Blue jeans. And a red polo shirt. With a blue bracelet, and gray shoes with purple laces. She was always very colorful. Her blonde hair was in a side ponytail. It was a summer. She stood in a grassy area of the nearest park to where we lived at the time. I remember her spinning. She was spinning around, and around, and would not stop until she fell, dizzily, into the rose bushes. She started crying. I don't remember how old I was. Four? I _think_ I was four.

Again I saw her. One year later. The pet store was nothing special. Filled with dogs, cats, dead fish. I walked in, and there she was. Again with those blue jeans. She wore them to the pet store. This time a blue shirt, and purple shoes with gray laces. The blue bracelet was on her wrist. She was petting a cat in the corner of the room on a rug. And she smiled. That was the first time I saw her smile.

When I started pre-school, I did not expect to see her. I had not seen her since the pet store. She was two minutes and 57 seconds late. I remember because that year I recently learned how to use a watch. She sat down at the red table I was sitting at, and took the chair next to me. She did not care that another blonde was sitting there. And that was when she said her first words to me. "Hi".

During fifth grade, she and I went to the movies with her mom. I think the movie was Disney related. I remember because she had an obsession with it afterward all year. She had absolutely no clue what was going on. She couldn't follow. So when we got back to her house I had to explain it to her. It took a long time. By the time I had to go home, we were so tired, that we fell asleep on her bed together.

7th grade was when it started. We were in room 38. I remember that was her favorite number that year. Our teacher, Mr. Massey, always left the room unlocked. So after cheer on Fridays we would sneak in their and just talk. Sometimes more than talk. One day she came in there with a picnic basket. She wanted to make me dinner. She took all of these foods that she stole out of the cafeteria when the lunch lady was not looking. I consider that our first date.

I found out what the blue bracelet said. The one she wore almost everyday. She never let me see it. Something about a curse. She left it in a classroom after class. I came back because I forgot something, too. She told me when I gave it back that I was going to get cursed. I told her I already was. It said her name. She lost the bracelet at a street fair a few months later.

9th grade was high school. She was excited. She wanted to join Cheerios so bad, and asked me to join with her. I remember because she made me a card and offered me a gift certificate to Breadstix, which at the time just opened. She kept begging me. I said maybe. One day after school I saw her dance, which was what she was going to do to try and get herself on the squad. Her dancing inspired me. She was flawless. I told her she was great. And she smiled.

She loved Mr. Schue's Somewhere Over The Rainbow. She kept singing it, and wrote the lyrics on everything she could possibly find. I remember because I took a picture of her bedroom wall. She sang it at every opportunity. She never got that duet she was longing for.

Junior year, she made a shirt for me. She was proud of that shirt. She was proud of me. She said that I should be proud of wearing the shirt. I remember it because she spelt lesbian wrong. Lebanese. She was disappointed when I didn't wear it. I hated it when she was disappointed.

Senior year. We went on a group date. Finn and Rachel. Quinn and Puck. Mercedes and Sam. Kurt and Blaine. Lauren and Artie. Mike and Tina. Only we came without dates. It was at the Lima Bean. I remember that because she would always order the same drink there. Only that day she got a different one. We sat down at the table, and Puck asked us when we started going out. She started patting my back after I started choking on my coffee. Then she smiled and said we always were.

College was an issue. She could not get in. She waited for me. She waited in an apartment she bought with funds that she earned from a coffee shop. She painted it pink, much to the landlords dismay. She had an obsession with roses. Only the red ones. Never the white. I remember she hated white because she thought the walls of the room would stain the petals.

When her cat died, she broke down and cried. She told everything to that cat. It was her pride and joy. I comforted her. She took off work for a week. We buried the cat at her mom's house. I remember her mom let us because the cat was special to their family. She put him in a pink casket, and invited the club to the funeral. They all took it so seriously. They understood her pain. I thanked them for that afterword.

One day she told me a story. She told me a story of a girl who was a princess, and she lived in a big castle. The princess was confident, and never let anybody get in the way of her dreams. The princess had a big family of singers that won the big prize. I remember the story because it sounded so familiar. She never told me why she said that story. She just sat me down and said it. That was one of the things I loved the most.

We lived in that apartment in Lima for who knows how long. I remember at a glee reunion Kurt brought up a story about when he came to visit for the first time. He fainted when he saw the pink. He swore the next time he was their he was painting it. He painted it blue. I remember blue because their is a stain on the floor of the bedroom. She painted it back to pink afterword.

I remember her turning twenty five. She wore those blue jeans. She knew I loved it when she wore blue jeans. She invited the whole club to come and celebrate at the apartment. I made her a cake. It was vanilla. I remember because she was ranting over how much she loved the type. She loved the party. I was looking for the cake when I walked into the bedroom and saw her eating it, sharing with one of the many cats we owned. She started laughing. I loved it when she laughed.

* * *

><p>"I am so sorry for your loss, Santana." I cringed. I hate it when people say that. It makes it sound so…real. I don't <em>want it <em>to be real.

It was a Sunday. I don't remember the date, or the time, or even the year. I just got home from work and their was a note on the counter. I do not remember what it said. I don't remember the pen color. I can't even remember what happened next. All I know is I heard the phone ring. I don't remember what was spoken exactly. I only know bits and pieces. "Brittany…car accident…so sorry for your loss." Dammit. That sentence again.

I don't even remember what she was wearing. How she wore her hair. What color laces she was wearing on her shoes. If she wore my favorite blue jeans. All I know is that Britt was gone.

But I do remember the time Brittany was wearing blue jeans. And that red shirt. With a blue bracelet, and gray shoes with purple laces. I remember her hair was in a side ponytail. It was a summer. Brittany stood in a grassy area of the nearest park to where we lived at the time. I remember her spinning. Brittany was spinning around and around and would not stop until she fell, dizzily, into the rose bushes. Brittany started crying. I remember how old I was. Four. I _was_ four years old.


End file.
